All the Sadness in Your Soul
by magic-blood
Summary: Crutchy shares a dream of his with the boys. Crack-ish. Slight slash. Wow... there's a first. Spring Awakening/Newsies


This is a song fic based on "The B-tch of Living" from the musical Spring Awakening. This song is amazing and if you don't know it I suggest you search for it on youtube - or this will make no sense probably.

Anyways, I wrote this a while ago but was never pleased with it. Since I just saw Newsies on bway Thursday and felt like uploading it. Here you go :)

* * *

"God, I dreamed dere was dis angel, Jack," began Crutchy peering with wide eyes to Jack who happened to be half awake.

The Manhattan leader rubbed his eyes. He was barley out of bed yet. Kloppman had just slapped the boys alive to catch the sunrise and another morning to carry the banner.

The disable newsie continued detailing his dream as he leaned on his crutch and waved his free hand to emphasize words, "She was a beauty I tell ya. She had long blonde hair, and white wings, and even a glowin' dress – just like the kind yous would picture!"

"Oh really, Crutchy?" asked Jack as interested as he could be. He was by no means a morning person. Lately, he couldn't find a reason to want to leave his bed. Not since the strike one year ago had he desired to wake up and start another day, just as boring and uneventful as the one previous.

The pair followed the crowd of young Newsies to the washing area, without thinking twice about it. It was a routine that they had memorized for the better part of their lives.

"You say sumthin' to her – or was it just some _other_ type o' dream?"

Crutchy shook his head with a frown, "I said sumthin to her alright – but it wasn't a doity kinda dream. I said she was an _angel_, Cowboy. Would yous do something like dat to one o' dose?"

Inwardly, Jack Kelly cried "yes" but he didn't let the more innocent boy catch on.

After he grabbed a clean enough shirt from his rack he wearily asked Crutchy what his "angel" had said.

"I said; '_dis_ is so not life at all'," he emphasized his words by hitting the ground with his crutch. "'Help me out- outta dis nightmare', I said to her. It was like she could me t'rough dese walls 'cause she answered me!"

"And she said something to you that was life changing, eh?"

The boy shrugged, "She said; "Just give it time kid, I come to one and all."

Jack made a small humorless laugh. "Biblical," he muttered before walking away to wash his face.

Crutchy was disappointed in Jack's disinterest, but he brushed it off.

It was a known fact to all the boys that Jack wasn't getting much sleep these days.

"Did she say sumthin' else, Crutch?" asked another boy walking up behind Crutchy.

"Indeed she did, Race. But it's nothin'."

"Naw, tell me – I'd like to hear something sweet to start another damn hot day. Y'know, before da nuns give me an ear full about me _poisonal_ life choices." Racetrack cracked tugging his arms through a vest. He was referring to how certain nuns didn't think kindly of an older boy continuing to hawk papes. The logic was clear; a low job would result in another lowlife on the streets of the City. Like another one of those could even fit…

Crutchy hobbled to the next room, following his new audience, "Well, I heard her silver call say; "Give me that hand, please, and that itch you can't control. Let me teach you how to handle all the sadness in your soul."

Once Crutchy and Race had meandered to the bathroom, they had caught the attention of a dozen other young men.

Boots, who also had apparently been listening, snorted as he past the pair. "Den what she say?" he asked before imitating an angelically feminine voice, "Oh we'll work that silver magic, then we'll throw it at the wall!" he preceded to throw his wet rag at the wall across the room. Specs had ducked to wash his face just in time.

"She said," Crutchy continued in a more stern voice directed at only Racetrack, "Love may make you blind kid – but I wouldn't mind at all," he then wagged his eyebrows and snickered – Racetrack nodded.

"Very int'restin, gimp. It seams to me dat you were unknowingly conveying da true meaning of life."

Crutchy smiled as he began to pump water into his small basin. "Oh yeah, what's dat?"

Racetrack looked intently in the mirror trying to decide of he should shave or not.

"Dat it's a bitch."

Crutchy looked to him confused. It wasn't quite what he was expecting to hear.

Mush joined in with a jovial laugh, "You got it, Racey!"

Boots, who had been patiently waiting for a glance in the foggy mirror quickly elbowed the loud boy to the side.

"Only talkin' to pretty girls in your head. It's the bitch of living my friends."

Racetrack smiled grabbing a brush, "Hey, I like dat. It's da bitch o' livin'."

"Yeah," added Kid Blink suddenly next to Crutchy, "wit nothin' but your hand!" he made a jerking gesture in front of the boy's face.

The busy crowd of boys chuckled knowingly as the younger ones gave the partially blind boy odd looks.

Crutchy scowled, "Gee, thanks for takin' me dreams to heart guys."

While most of the guys were enjoying themselves, Jack couldn't seem to shake his mood, not even sticking his head under the frigid sink water helped.

"Just he bitch of livin'," he said to himself as his face emerged from the sink, "as someone you can't stand."

He dried his face and passed a shirtless Skittery who had just stepped out of the bathroom.

"See each night it's like fantastic," he declared, the boys turned to face him while getting ready. "In my bed, I toss and turn with out gettin' any rest- "

"Oh yeah, sounds great," moaned Jack.

Skittery eyed him, "Wouldja let me finish?" he looked back to the others. "I toss and turn without rest 'cause of my days at this corner, with this school girl and her breasts. And goils are da one thing I don't even get at all," he lifted himself onto the top of the sink counter, the boys shouted with laughter. "But those breasts - I mean God please, just let those apples fall!" he cried before "falling" back off the table, landing on his feet.

Kid Blink laughed hitting his leg, "It's the bitch of livin' – I'se is likin' dis new phrase."

"The bitch of livin' in New York City, drippin' sweat, woikin' t'rough humidity," said Bumlets with a nudge to Kid Blink as they, and the most of the others, grabbed their hats and headed for the staircase.

Skittery had lagged behind for some reason though. Specs noticed his strange behavior as he secretly gazed at him from the next room where their bunks were.

"See, there's showering at nighttime." He whispered in a barley audible murmur gazing longingly at the other boy.

The only other boy near besides Skittery was Dutchy, he had jut finished shaving and was taking his time putting away his blade.

"Jack Kelly, he's da best. Looks so _nasty_ in those nickahs." He whispered just as hushed as the other boy.

Specs began to descend the staircase just as Skittery had ran up behind him.

"The headlines better be decent today."

Specs glanced to him, "Got sumthin' you plan on buyin'?"

"Yeah," said Skittery, his light eyes meeting Spec's round glass spheres, "A good lay."

Specs watched as Skittery nodded to Kloppman and ran outside.

He too walked by Kloppman and was soon met with the sun's obnoxious rays.

He adjusted his hat and shook his head at the sight of Skittery's lean back in the distance.

"God," he sighed, "my whole life's like some test."

"Den dere's dat wonderful Meddah Larkson," said Racetrack walking by Specs with Pie-Eater in toe. "As if she'd return me love."

"It's like just kiss some ass, man," Pie-Eater shrugged, "then you can screw 'em all."

David, otherwise known as 'The Walking Mouth' sped by boys carrying a stack of fresh papers. He walked with a heavy stomp to the ground and kept his brow narrowed.

"Do they think we want this?" he asked to no one in particular.

"Who knows?" shrugged Jack who was already standing at his corner as the angered young man passed.

David stopped his march and gave Jack a stern glare as he struggled to light a match for his cigarette.

"You don't even know what I was talking about…"

Jack looked up to him, "The bitch of livin'? Asking what went wrong?"

"Don't talk to me today, alright?" said Davey suddenly walking away from the man.

"What's wrong, Davey?" he asked aggressively seeming to fully understand why Davey was upset.

Davey gritted his teeth taking a few steps closer to Jack, "When is it you plan on moving to Sante Fe, Frances? Or are you just going to move to a little cell like your father?"

Jack stuck his smoke in his mouth and gazed to David. His eyes were cold and uninterested in what the upper crust boy had to say.

David decided it wasn't worth the effort. He turned his back to leave just as Jack muttered something to the ground. Without hesitation or thought, David threw himself on him, immediately swinging punches aimed at his face.

The boys were thrown into a vicious fight that landed them to the hard pavement.

"What did you say?" cried Davey, "You dirty bastard!"

Jack startled David and pulled at his collar, "I'll soak ya fer dat, scabber!"

David smirked at the sight of Jack's busted lip, "This is for my sister!" he said before pinning Jack to the ground.

It was finally Racetrack and Skittery who were the closest and able to interfere.

Skittery quickly grabbed Jack arm's behind his back, "Da coppers, Jack!" he reminded the enraged man. "They won't let you get away with another."

Racetrack helped David to his feet. "What happened here?" he asked removing his cigar from between his lips.

"It's the bitch o' livin'," said Jack without taking his deadly glare from David.

David spit to the side, "You're living in your _head_."

He then shook Racetrack's grip away, gathered his papers, and continued down the sidewalk.

"In my head," laughed Jack humorlessly to himself before leaving in the opposite direction.

"You watch me, just watch me!" shouted David back to the man he had just attacked.

Skittery could only look dumbfounded to Racetrack, "What da hell could that've been about?"

Racetrack shook his head, "The bitch of living?"

Skittery starred to him visibly annoyed by this new saying.

"Jack and Davey always make up. They're just a couple of hot heads… With them someone always has to win. They're just trying to get ahead.

Racetrack shook his head with a sigh, "Can't wait get my coffee from da nuns now. They'll be happy to know I'm thinkin' o' going' to confession. Even though deep inside… I'm sensing God is dead."


End file.
